


Tales of a thousand years and one night

by Griffinous56



Category: Senyuu. (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Background Slash, Behind the Scenes, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28310289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griffinous56/pseuds/Griffinous56
Summary: History only told the victor's tales.Or in which there are many chapters on Creasion's journey left unsaid.
Relationships: Rchimedes I & Ross | Creasion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This's honestly just a dumping place for all my headcanons for Creasion's journey because Haruhara refuses to give me more information to work with (and to work out my writing block...). Maybe short, maybe long, I dunno help me out here.

_The mattress under his aching back was cold and stiff when Sion stirred awake alone in his bed. The air was cold and stagnant, restricting his throat with frost with every inhale he took. Instinctively, he climbed down his bed and waddled over the room to grab the flints above the fireplace, sparkling embers to life, the warmth felt nice on his cheek full of baby fat and his freezing fingers. The crimson wisp danced across the old charcoal, some got onto his bare skin when he changed into new cloth, and Sion made a mental note to grab new dry wood from their house’s basement._

_The house’s silence was disrupted by his steps on the wooden flank, small feet carrying him gracefully around the scamped place; even if it was morning, the house was still mostly dark inside, saved for a candle or two in the hallway, halfway-burnt, and Sion quickly extinguished those. His idiotic father must have been waking up all night with those questionable experiments of his again, Sion thought as he breathed into his hands. It was a chilly morning after all, and his idiotic father shouldn’t fall asleep in that cold whatever-lab of his again._

_(Rchimedes caught a cold last time he tried that. A running nose with high fever accompanied by a sharp jab from Sion was what he got. The old man deserved it. Probably. It still couldn’t stop Sion from sleeping by his bed through the night, though.)_

_As expected, Rchimedes was drooling on his desk when Sion dropped by his “lab”, snoring the day away. Looking at his face made the kid want to punch him, but Sion held back, eyeing at the small box covered with blue paper placed by his father’s head. Messy work with a poorly tie bow, but there was no mistaken of his name in father’s neat writing on a small paper stuck on top of the box._

_A gift._

_Sion huffed. He didn’t remember asking for anything other than stopping with his weird experience least their shabby house collapse under with another explosion and help him out with the hunting for once. He would just casually toss it aside, assuming it was just another useless piece of scrap he had no use for anyway._

_His father’s snoring face was just asking to be punch._

_But Sion didn’t punch Rchimedes nor kick him in the shin and wake him up to order him to get some wood. Instead, he went to prepare some eggs and bread, placed them on the dinner table before grabbing his shovel and a short axe, heading out to his employee’s usual place, not forget to dig yet another pitfall in front of Crea’s house._

_Just another normal winter morning._

* * *

The sunlight grated his tiring eyes when Sion stirred awake. It was cold, freezing even, to the point where the thick blanket he had in sleep was rendered useless under the harsh weather. There were yellings in the distance, sounded light someone from his neighborhood, the words “Demons!” and “Barricade the gate!” jarring his eardrums.

Sion didn’t react to any of it at first, because it was nothing new, really, since a certain “Demon King” declared himself the enemy of humanity. But it soon got tiring enough for Sion to heave a heavy sigh. Slowly but surely, Sion got up and instinctually reached for his hunting spear, laying just an arm-reach away. The fire had long since gone cold in the hearth, now nothing but a pile of ash, but Sion didn’t bother to find some wood and reignite the flame. There was no one but him in this house anyway, and judging by the screaming outside, he wouldn’t be back here till the morrow.

Put on high leather boots and secured the red sash around his waist, Sion then rushed out of the front door to join the fight as always. Small feet carried him swiftly and light, wooden floor slightly creaked the usual choir in the empty place, eyes easily finding his way around the darkness of dawn, maneuvering around piles of books left by _him_ littering around the otherwise clean floor, fast and efficient just like how he always prefer.

It was just another normal cold winter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the child who once lost everything.  
> And to the man who will save everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s both Lunar New Year and almost Valentines at my place so I guess I’ll be nice to Creasion this time ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Merry crisis Sion.


End file.
